west bengal tourism


  A Day trip 

This was a day trip with my bestie. To one of the less, frequented site in the suburbs of Kolkata, Bakkhali. Known for its pristine beach, red crab islands, Fishing jetties, Mangrove and magnificent Islands. This is a must-visit for a weekend or maybe for a few more extra days if you fall in love with this place.

Our trip started early in the morning as we boarded a local train to Namkhana. The 3hour journey was an experience by itself. We communicated with daily passengers who travel long distances every day for a living. Seeing us fully armed with backpacks, scarves and dark glasses a few commuters thought we were Doctors on our way to the district for a Health camp. A bright sunny day, acres and acres of green lands flashing by the window. Farmers busy tending to their lands, women washing clothes in yellowish-green ponds and little children running along the train tracks, waving their hands with big smiles. My heart swells up seeing the innocence and simple life of people living just a few kilometres from a metro city. Unaware of the chaotic life back in the concrete city they enjoy every moment.


As our train chugged to Namkhana, we were greeted by an immaculate, clean and organised train station. We had two options to cross the Hatania-Doania creek to reach the next milestone. One was by ferry and the other by road over the newly constructed bridge. We opted for a motorised locally made van which dropped us at Namkhana Bus stop. The local buses were quite regular and took 45 minutes to reach Bakkhali. The bus terminus is a mere 2 minutes from the beach. Being a weekday, the area looked calm and quiet with just a handful of local tourists.

We rested at a nearby food stall to have a relaxed lunch staring at the mighty ocean. The water seemed to be quite far away due to the tides and tourists were enjoying the warm summer breeze bathing in the sea. Rice and egg curry along with locally made ghugni garnished with onion and lime juice was our menu for lunch. After a quick lunch, we headed towards our next destination. When two women travel, can shopping be kept at bay? No……Plenty of stalls selling various knick-knacks and souvenirs made of seashells, corals and pearls were on display.


A drive along the lanes and bylanes of Bakkhali made way to Frasergunj. Lined with huge windmills looming over little houses overlooking the sea. The windmills were strategically built to capture the strong sea breeze and convert it into precious electricity. Sir Andrew Fraser was far-sighted in discovering this part of the sea and developing it into a fishing community. The scenic Frasergunj beach looks surreal with fishing boats and nets lined on one side and food stalls on the other. A partially demolished house stands on the seashore lashed by the waves time and again. Trees growing out of the crevices of the cracks have witnessed many a tale. A group of local women were busy untangling the fishing nets and getting them ready for their men for the next catch. After spending a few “Aha” moments on the beach we proceeded to our next destination. The Fishing Harbour, at Frasergunj, managed by Benfish.


The harbour was a hidden gem amidst the ocean. As we crossed the entrance lined by mangroves on either side, we witnessed a colossal affair. A huge number of trawlers had arrived to unload their catch after a week of sailing on a rough sea. The harbour looked ceremonial with tons of fishes being unloaded, shifted, segregated and stored for consumption. Inbetween our photo sessions I engaged a group of fishermen in an interesting conversation. The group returned to shore after 10 days of fishing on the high sea. They sounded happy for their catch was extremely lucrative, which would fetch handsome money. I parallelly figured a sense of insecurity and fear, as they did not have enough gadgets or systems in place.  Signalling system that can be used when in danger in the middle of the sea. The GPS, hooter and the emergency alarm system planted on the roof of the trawler seems to be defunct. Repeated complaints to the officials fetched no results.

Precious lives at risk!!

Frasergunj 1

Bright orange coloured crates with fishes in every shape and size were carried from the harbour to the cold storage after thorough segregation. As the trawlers poured tons of fishes in the harbour, more boats were waiting their turn to unload. A senior fisherman stepped into every boat in the harbour to ring a bell and blow a conch to offer prayers to the sea goddess.  The men were working hard and toiling their sweat for a better tomorrow and a brighter future. We crisscrossed several fishing villages which looked like images straight from the folk tales. Mud houses with a thatched roof, little granaries to store the harvest for the year, ponds covered with water hyacinth,  occasional fishes popping up the water body. Little munchkins running along with puppies and chicks and quickly lifting their loose knickers lest it falls off. Our next destination was Henry’s Island which is 15 minutes from the harbour.

 Henry’s Island

A beautiful little piece of paradise on earth with pristine white sand and aquamarine water. The Island starts with a mangrove on either side and a little park done up by the local authorities. The special draw of the island is the 162 water bodies that are used for Pisciculture using modern techniques. A drive through the many water bodies in a Toto was not only breezy and soulful but a treat to the eyes. The area was dotted with several species of colourful birds and insects which happily thrive in their natural habitat. It was interesting to witness that the water body for cultivating prawns was very different from the one that cultured Rohu or other local fishes. As we arrived, a ramp made way further inside which could be accessed only by feet. The entire area is enveloped by mangroves with occasional Hetal trees, which are planted exclusively to keep snakes at bay.

Henry’s Island

We crossed a little bamboo bridge and were greeted by a lush canopy of trees. The cool canopy further led to a serene and tranquil beach. Fine white sand, a calm sea and a watchtower guarding it all. A scene straight out of a Bollywood movie minus, the characters grooving to the latest numbers. It seemed like, a painter had used his best strokes to paint the sea with every shade of blue ranging from aquamarine to cerulean. As the bright sun was sliding down and turning to richer hues, we called it a day and proceeded homewards.

STD(sanchitas travel diary) rating – 4/5

This article will envelop everything you wanted to know about Gamcha

The pride of a quintessential Bengali is a Gamcha.

Gamcha, a typical red colour, coarse, pure cotton, checkered towel, generally handed over from one generation to another with elan. Every Bengali visiting Puri during the summer vacation comes back with a dozen gamuchas as souvenirs to be gifted to family and friends with pride.

Every balcony or terrace in north Kolkata is adorned with a lineup of gamchas of various hues. A little boy in Kolkata is born with a gamcha wound delicately around him. On a hot and sunny Sunday, the men of the house laze around the home in their most comfortable attire, the gamcha (what in case of a wardrobe malfunction).The fabric provides unmatched natural air condition and with repeated use gets much softer and cosier. The boy reaches puberty adorned in a gamcha and enters manhood with pride. This little piece of an asset has borne the test of time.

Multiple uses of a gamcha

Any and every traditional occasion in a Bangali household demands a Gamcha, the soft cotton towel. A Bengali wedding, which is a much sought after occassion, out of several customs Subho Drishti is the most vital one, where the bride covers her eyes with two betel leaves while entering the chadnatala (the arena where the marriage takes place). Post the exchange of garlands, one end of the bride’s Sari is tied to the groom’s dhoti with lo and behold, a gamcha!!

A farmer or a villager’s friend, the humble gamcha accompanies him from morning to night. Right from the time he wakes up and has his morning cuppa the gamcha is snuggly held on his able shoulders. He starts his day with the multipurpose gamcha tied as a turban and walks towards the field. He sweats and toils in the little patch of land which only the gamcha is a testimony. After a few morsels of rice, Raghu yearns for a princely siesta under the peepal tree spreading out his humble gamcha to ease his spraining neck.  

I am sad to say that the gamcha is on its way to extinction with an array of colourful fluffy towels to compete.

There should be a protest to preserve and conserve the Gamcha culture of Kolkata!!

We shall overcome….the Pete Seeger way…….